My name is Jen Leung. I am now writing my story to you, to this world. My
story with Louis and Lestat. Let me recall your memory. Louis is the author of
“The Interview with the Vampire” while Lestat is the author of “The Vampire
Lestat”. I think I will only give a brief summary to those books in my section.
Both of them are vampires. They have not been humans for more than two
centuries. If they don’t have their endless lives, I will not meet them in my
lifetime. For me, you may wonder who actually I am. You are right. I am
not human, not being human for seventeen years that is a very short moment only
compared to my eternal life. I know many humans eager to have such a life, but
it means nothing to me. And on the contrary, I still cherish the time being a
human that I have treasured most in my whole life. I always have a special
feeling while I think about or hear the word of human. Unfortunately, I have no
return now. I still don’t know if I regret for encountering them or not until
now. But they have made me to make up my mind to publish my story to the world
and with my reason and my incentive totally different from theirs.
Why hasn’t Lestat told you my name in his book? Actually, he has
introduced me in “The Vampire Lestat” and his album but just in the original
version. This version has been published once but later changed to a second
edition with some reasons. But both editions don’t have much importance to me
after all. I have become the thing helplessly that I hate at last.
I will never forget my time being a human.
When I was still a human, I was only twenty-two years old. I was
Chinese, which was the only Chinese vampire in the world until now. I had
inherited my parentage. I looked like my mother so much. She was a beautiful
and charming lady. We were similar in height and with pleasant impression. I
was 165 cm tall, thin but with good figure. My skin of course was yellow. I had
long, black and shiny hair with little curls at the ends. I liked to tie them
up with a ribbon when I was working or in a bad mood. I loved the black colour
of my hair that could emanate a mystery feeling. And this feeling made the
people around me willingly give me their in-depth study. Small round dark brown
eyes with a straight nose, which liked my mother’s most, could be found on my
little face. My eyes gave a shining of black crystal orbs. Those who looked at
them couldn’t help themselves diverting their attention from gazing, just like
their souls had been snared in them. In fact, I also loved to look at them in
the reflection of the mirror and found them irresistible. They became more
charming when I was smiling. They were in the shape of the crescent moons as if
they bowed. And my lips were always pinkish that having the seductive power for
drawing someone to kiss on them. Most of the people said I had a childish and
angel face. They often guessed I was only around seventeen. But I wanted to
give a more-mature impression to the people, so I always put on a pair of black
plastic glasses even I had no short sight. These were the appearance my parents
had given me. I loved it and felt it was so fit to me.
http://www.thedarkheaven.com/story.php
